


Shut Up And Dance With Me

by GreenBryn



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ballroom Dancing, I make up a lot of shit, M/M, Other, Strictly Ballroom au, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Warning: Deceit Sanders, dancing au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 06:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18115196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBryn/pseuds/GreenBryn
Summary: "Strictly Ballroom" AU. Virgil Hastings, champion ballroom dancer, is recovering from an embarrassing loss at the Florida Statewide Championship. He's lost his dancing partner and rumors abound about his unconventional dance moves. Things are looking pretty bleak when novice dance student Patton approaches Virgil with an offer: He wants to dance with Virgil, using Virgil's steps, at the National United States Grand Prix Championship. With three weeks to train, can they pull off the best routine the American Dance Federation has ever seen?





	1. The Florida Statewide Championship

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Blarg. I haven't written fic in what feels like forever, but my obsession with Moxiety has broken down my writer's block and started making the words flow again. I hope somebody likes it :) Anything that isn't directly lifted from the movie is pretty much 100% made up, so please let me know if I made any mistakes.

_The article, printed in the Orange Grove Gazette, was titled **"Young Star Missteps At Statewide Dance Competition"**. It read as follows:_

The competition was beautiful. The gentlemen were debonair, the ladies graceful, and the non-binary partners perfectly poised. Each pair of competitors were resplendent in matching costumes dripping with sequins and feathers. They glittered like sugar-crusted candied fruit as they waltzed, lithe bodies arching to the music. Skirts flared as each couple slowly circled around the dance floor, their faces frozen in expressions ranging from fierce determination to aloof euphoria. Friends and family stood on the sidelines, shouting encouragement as their favorite couples passed by.

"Virgil won most of the trophies in this room," Virgil's mother, Dot Hastings, said after the competition. She gave the interview with her husband, Larry, at their home in Gainesville, Florida. "You see, that's the tragedy. My son was a champion." When asked about the reports of her son breaking regulations and dancing non-Federation steps at the competition, Dot Hastings said, "Well, there's been some silliness in the past, but we thought he was over it. We never imagined that he would do such a thing in front of Federation President Percy H. P. Canon."

"There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Virgil and Dee would be the next Florida Statewide Amateur Five-Dance Latin American Champions. I mean, they'd worked towards it all their lives," she said.

Virgil Hastings and his long-time partner Dee Seaver were the early favorites of the competition, but everything changed with the Samba. Starting the dance strong with the sultry hip movements and quick steps customary of the exotic dance, they were a heavenly vision in their trademark sparkling gold costumes trimmed with black. It seemed like they would be a shoe-in for first place. They even outshone the returning champions, Remington "Remy" Steele and Marco B'Ney, who were magnificent in their own signature orange and brown.

"Remy's always been a wonderful ambassador for ballroom dancing," Dot Hastings said. "But I know that everyone there really thought it was Virgil's turn."

The trouble began when Virgil Hastings was unable to complete a full Three Step Turn - his path suddenly impeded by Remy Steele performing an Argentine Cross. Crowded into the corner of the dance floor, Virgil and Dee were handicapped with no room to perform the grandiose dance moves they needed to secure their win.

For more information on this, we spoke with Emile Picani, Virgil's dance coach. "It is true, Virgil and Dee became, what we term, 'boxed in' or 'blocked'. However, it was no excuse for what Virgil did. He resorted to his own, flashy, crowd-pleasing steps." Picani refers to the non-regulation dance move Hastings performed: throwing himself under the obstacle of Steele and B'Ney's linked arms, he slid backwards across the dance floor to where there was more space before rolling into a back-flip and back to his feet, where he spun and then motioned for his partner to follow suit.

Still hindered by Steele and B'Ney, Dee was unable to copy his daring move, so Virgil resorted to picking Dee up and over Steele and B'Ney, into an overhead lift. "He forced me into it," stated Dee Seaver, Virgil's partner. "Where the Lead goes, the Partner must follow. I had no choice."

"I keep asking myself why," Dot Hastings tearfully admitted. "Did I do something wrong? Did I fail him as a mother?"

With more room to move, the crowd went crazy, cheering as Virgil improvised new steps, adding flairs and spins to his already flashy choreography - moves that his partner Dee was unable to keep pace with. While Dee's own choreography continued to be professional and on-tempo, it paled in comparison to Virgil's sudden bold, flamboyant additions. He danced like a wild thing, possessed by the music and unable to restrain himself to match his merely mortal partner.

"To pick what was actually wrong with the steps, you'd have to be an experienced professional, like myself," stated Picani, "or Federation President Percy H. P. Canon."

We managed to track down President Canon for a statement: "Well, of course. You can dance any steps you'd like. That doesn't mean you'll **win**." And indeed, the winners of the Florida Statewide Championship were declared to be Remy Steele and Marco B'Ney, continuing their streak as reigning champions.

Not everyone shares the Federation President's views on the new steps. "I've only been dancing for two years," said Patton, a beginning student at the Sanders Dance Studio where Virgil and Dee train. "So I haven't got a partner yet. But I thought that what they danced was wonderful. I thought they should have won."

\- For more news on the local dance scene, along with our predictions of what this debacle means for the upcoming National United States Grand Prix Championship, follow us online at OrangeGroveGazette.com


	2. So tell me what you want, what you really, really want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil roughly spun Dee around to face him, "What _do_ you want?"
> 
> "What do I want?" Dee exclaimed, "I'll _tell_ you what I want! I want Remington Steele to walk in here right now, and say _'Marco B'Ney's broken both his legs, and I wanna dance with you!'_ "

Three days after the competition, Dot Hastings was leading the beginner's dance class at Sanders Dance Studio. Emile assisted her, demonstrating the Lead's steps, as Dot showed the Partner's echoing stance. They were both pointedly not watching the closed door to the side office, behind which Virgil and Dee were supposedly reconciling their differences. Just in case, the music was turned up louder than normal to drown out any noises that might come from the office. In another corner of the dance floor, dance partners Roman Prince and Logan Sanders were practicing their own moves, gearing up for the upcoming National United States Grand Prix Championship. Joining the beginner's class for the day was Virgil's little brother Missy and his partner Pranks, who were practicing for the children's division of the Grand Prix Championship.

"Partner up!" Emile called as Dot twirled into his arms, the beginners around them pairing off. With an uneven number of students there was one left over - a shy, curly-haired young man with freckles and large, round glasses - who had to practice with an invisible partner.

"Happy as larks they were the other night," Dot confided to Emile as they danced. "They were on the phone for hours!"

Inside the office, Virgil was quickly losing his cool. "I'm just asking you, what did you think of the steps?"

"I don't think!" Dee shrieked, "I don't give a _shit_ about them! We _lost_!"

"Don't you worry about Percy," Emile grinned, calling out "Spin your partner!"

Dot spun out, and nearly bumped into the boy who had been studying his own feet. "Oh, Patton!" she said, "Eyes up - you've got to watch where you're going!"

"Sorry, Mrs. Hastings." Patton immediately lifted his chin, gaze forward, and Dot smiled. There wasn't much potential in the boy - he was far too reserved for the cut-throat world of competitive ballroom dancing - but as long as he wanted to pay for lessons, she didn't mind teaching him the basic steps.

"Much better," Dot said, and the boy grinned. "Thank you, Mrs. Hastings!" 

In the office, Virgil's voice was getting louder. "I don't want us to end up like that caffeine addict Remy Steele!"

Dee scoffed, "Remington Steele is a ballroom **_king_**!"

"Roll your partner back in! Good job, Valerie!" Emile called out to one of the beginners, then lowered his voice to Dot. "I smoothed it over. When Emile Picani talks, Percy Canon listens!"

Dot laughed as they spun around the room. "I've got my happy face on today, Emile!" she grinned. "Everything is going to be all right!"

Everyone froze as the office door slammed open, Dee letting out a primal scream of frustration that echoed in the dance studio.

"Oh my god." Emile and Dot murmured in unison, staring at the man.

"I am sorry, Mrs. Hastings," Dee said, stalking over to her. "I have tried, God knows I have tried. But as far as I can see, your son isn't even interested in winning the National United States Grand Prix Championship!" His voice was cold and angry, "As of this moment, he and I are no longer partners." He turned, heading to the front door.

As he crossed the dance floor, Patton looked up from where his gaze had fallen to his feet again. "Oh, hi Dee!" Patton chirped, and tried to step out of the way. Unfortunately, Patton accidentally stepped in the same direction Dee had pivoted to step around him, and his foot unwittingly came down on top of Dee's instep. Dee shrieked in pain, causing Patton to flinch and lose his balance. He flailed, trying to grab Dee's shoulder, but instead his hand only found the short cape Dee liked to wear around his shoulders. Patton crashed to the floor with a loud rip of fabric, the force of which knocked Dee to the floor as well. Patton, red-faced with embarrassment, made it to his feet first and quickly untangled himself from Dee.

"ROMAN!" Dee shrieked, and his friend and fellow dancer Roman Prince peeled away from Logan and helped Dee back to his feet.

"Tango, please!" Emile called out, a little hysterically. Larry, who was seated at the end of the room with the music player, obligingly switched tracks to a tango beat. Dee picked up the tatters of his ruined cape, and Roman quickly guided him to the Partners changing room to recover. "This stupid studio is a nightmare!" Dee screamed as the door closed behind them.

Emile led Dot through the steps of the tango on autopilot as he internally freaked out. "Oh my god, Dot."

"Stay calm, Emile, stay calm." Dot gritted through clenched teeth. She glanced to the side, spotting Virgil. "Here he comes. Larry!"

Larry stood up to try to intercept Virgil, but he was already walking away. "Son, can I have a word with you?"

"Not now, Dad." Virgil growled, brushing him aside.

"Don't you speak to your father like that!" Dot snapped, her feet stomping out the beat of the tango harder than necessary. "He's trying to talk to you! Talk to him, Larry!"

Virgil shook his head and walked away, headed to the Leads changing room to cool down. Logan followed him in, hesitantly adjusting his glasses. "This may not be the ideal moment," Logan began, "but Roman and I require you assistance with the Botafogo."

Virgil waved the request aside, turning to his best friend. "Did you like the way I danced on the weekend?" he asked.

Logan blinked, confused by the non sequitur. "What?" 

"Did you like the way I danced on the weekend?" Virgil repeated.

"I don't know." Logan frowned, "Your elaborate efforts did not yield the desired result. Remy won."

Virgil sighed, frustrated. "Yeah, but did you _like_ it?"

"I don't know. Are you ready?"

"What?" It was Virgil's turn to be confused. Sometimes it felt like he and Logan were having completely different conversations.

"You said you would help Roman and I with the Botafogo." Logan reminded him, starting to get frustrated at having to repeat himself. 

Virgil tried one more time, "I'm asking you what you thought of the way I danced on the weekend!"

"I'm telling you, I don't _know_!" Logan exclaimed. He liked dancing for its rules, for the mathematical way the steps made sense. He liked the order and rhythm, liked knowing exactly where his body was at all times and the exact angles to hold his arms. He liked routine and structure, which was why he and Roman made such great partners. His own dancing could appear emotionless and stilted on his own, but with Roman he became the anchor, the steadfast foundation that allowed Roman to pull off breathtaking spins and advanced leaps through the air. Whatever dramatic flairs Logan lacked, Roman more than made up for. Roman liked improvising - he was the one Virgil should be asking about his non-Federation steps, but Roman was best friends with Dee, and with Dee no longer dancing with Virgil, Logan was afraid their friendship group was in for turbulent seas ahead.

"Fat lot of help you are!" Virgil exploded, slamming his fist against a locker and storming out of the changing room. Logan paused to take a deep breath and calm down before following him back out into the main dance studio. Roman had returned by then, and Logan pulled him onto the dance floor to cover their whispered conversation.

The beginners had swapped partners and Dot was busy helping Leo and Terrence with their form. Emile caught Virgil's arm as he walked past and pulled him into the tango. "We had an agreement," Emile chided Virgil under his breath. His eye briefly caught on one of the beginner couples. "Raise your arm, Valerie!"

"Maybe I changed my mind," Virgil retorted, dancing backwards as Emile led. "Maybe I'm just sick of dancing somebody else's steps all the time."

"Don't get above yourself!" Emile exclaimed. "People who passed on those steps know a lot more about dancing than you do!"

"The audience didn't think so," Virgil sneered.

Emile shook his head, "Oh, the _audience_." he said, derisively. His eye caught again on one of the beginners going past. "Forward on the heel, Patton!" He turned back to Virgil, "What do _they_ know? Flashy, unusual choreography. Crowd-pleasing, sure, but where was your floor-craft? Arms, Valerie!" Back to Virgil, his voice getting louder with intensity, "No energy directed into the floor! Untidy feet and hands, you could have driven a truck between your left- _ARMS, VALERIE!_ -and your right hand! Do you _really_ think that will win you the National Grand Prix?!?"

"Does he really think that's going to win him the National Grand Prix?" Logan whispered to Roman.

Roman, full of gossip from Dee, was furious, "He also said that what we dance is crap."

"And what's more," Emile continued, "you won't win if you don't have a partner!"

"Looks like Virgil and Dee are still fighting, Mrs. H." Terrence said.

Dot adjusted his grip on Leo's hand and forced a smile onto her face, "I'm not going to let that bother me, Terrence. I've got my happy face on today." She moved onto the next couple, where Patton and Valerie were dancing. "Well, Patton, you managed to upset Dee," she paused a moment to correct their form before moving on.

"Go to that man and beg for forgiveness," Emile advised Virgil as they made their way around the room. "You're nothing without him, Virge. Remember - it takes two to tango. You have a light in you, boy. Let it shine."

Patton sighed. "I'd better go and apologize," he said to Valerie, and spun her out, before heading to the Partners changing room. As he reached it, the door slammed open - Patton squeaked as he was knocked aside, pinned between the wall and the door. Dee stalked in, now changed into a yellow blouse with his black slacks, the tattered remains of his cape shoved into his shoulder bag. Everyone stopped dancing where they were, hypnotized like mice before the gaze of a snake. Dee glared at Virgil but didn't say anything as he headed towards the front door, pausing briefly to hug Roman as he passed by.

Virgil broke away from Emile and leaped ahead of Dee, skidding on his knees on the floor before popping up between Dee and the exit. Virgil paced forward, forcing Dee to back up a few steps. Dee stepped left to go around him, Virgil moved to block. Dee moved right, Virgil was again in his path. "All right," Dee grumbled, tossing his bag to the side and letting Virgil pull him into his arms. They performed the next several steps of the tango together, slow, slow, quick-quick slow, their stances matching each other perfectly, each instinctively knowing how the other was going to move from years of practice.

Dee grinned victoriously as they completed another perfect Posición cero. "I knew you'd come to your senses." Virgil's gaze snapped to Dee's glowing face, and on his next step he improvised a spin under Dee's outstretched arm, leaping and twisting around as Dee froze, his expression rapidly crumbling back into fury. "No!" Dee shouted, "I don't want this!"

Virgil roughly spun Dee around to face him, "What _do_ you want?"

"What do I want?" Dee exclaimed, "I'll _tell_ you what I want! I want Remington Steele to walk in here right now, and say _'Marco B'Ney's broken both his legs, and I wanna dance with you!'_ "

Somewhere on the other side of Florida, Marco was driving home from practice. Headlights filled his vision and he screamed, twisting the wheel to the side, but there wasn't time. The air filled with screeching tires, the crunch of metal against metal, and Marco's car rolled several times from the impact.

Suddenly, the doors to the Sanders Dance Studio opened, revealing Remy Steele in all his championship glory. His eyes locked onto Dee, and he walked right up to him like a man on a mission. Taking Dee's hand, Remy said, "Marco B'Ney's broken both his legs, and I wanna dance with you."

"That was unexpected," Missy whispered to Pranks.


End file.
